


Deception

by ViveMemorLeti



Series: (ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ) нαтє мє [2]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Marble Hornets
Genre: Cross-Posted on Quotev, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gen, Hoodie (Hoody?) is tho, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by David Near, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship, Reader is a stripper btw, Smoking, Sorry Not Sorry, Stalking, Strong Language, Tim needs therapy, Toby is mentioned in passing he's not really in here, Tried to keep in Gender Neutral but didn't really work out, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere, no beta we die like men, until its not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViveMemorLeti/pseuds/ViveMemorLeti
Summary: Young, smooth and handsome, deception boiling in his blood, Tim lit the cigarette between your pretty pink lips and watch fire dance across your pale, exhausted face.
Relationships: Timothy "Tim" W. | Masky/Original Female Character(s), Timothy "Tim" W. | Masky/You, Timothy "Tim" Wright/Original Character(s), Timothy "Tim" Wright/Reader
Series: (ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ) нαтє мє [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741417
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Deception

Tim, or Masky as he went by nowadays, loved to smoke.

Ever since he picked up the habit, he had liked to light one up after a particularly stressful event and exhale the stress out of himself in the form of toxic smoke. Slowly, it went from stressful smoking to doing so whenever he had the chance, if he was stressed or not didn't really matter as long as he got his fix. Now, it was more of a game to him seeing how long it would take for the familiar weight of his cigarette easing his irritation, to see who or what would kill him first: the Slenderman or the damn cancer stick.

(He knew it was stupid for him to try. The Being would never let them die just look at fucking Brian.)

He loved to watch the world burn, too. Tim (Masky? He wasn’t really sure who he was anymore. But did it matter? Did he matter?) loved to erase people from existence. Loved to watch the light fade from their betrayed eyes as he slowly wrapped his blood-soaked hands around his victim's throat and paint their skin a startling array of colors.

That was probably why Masky (Tim? someone please tell him who he was _he_ _can't_ _do this_ _anymore_ _-_ ) also loved to watch you dance. It wasn't because he liked the way your body arched and twisted to the music, how you'd slide down the pole with utmost grace. It wasn't because he liked to watch you smile and laugh, fake or otherwise, and enjoy the time with the people around you. No, he loved to watch you because of how oblivious you were to everything around you. He loved how clumsy you were, how your pretty hands and knees would bruise to a stunning shade of yellow and blue, how you moaned in pain when you twist your ankle, and hit the floor with a thud.

He loved how you couldn't see him in the darkest corner of the room or in the steel beams above you. 

(Or how you'd never notice him come back into your room after long after his counterpart left. He loved to see you vulnerable under him as he kissed your neck and lips.)

Yeah, Masky loved to smoke, loved to murder, loved to hate, loved to lie, and to take but he found that he loved to watched you suffer even more.

* * *

The first time he had met you were right outside the ally-way of your club. It was late at night and he had just gotten off of his "shift." To celebrate, he had gone and acquired- stole- a packet of cigarettes and decided to stop and have a nice long smoke away from Toby and his annoying, stalker ass. 

(Honestly, if [Toby ](https://www.quotev.com/story/12084077/Damnation)wanted them so much he should just go and fucking get them, it wasn't that difficult. The lovesick puppy shit was getting on his last _fucking_ nerve.)

With a small sound of irritation, Masky huffed out a puff of gray smoke. He leaned against the wall, trying to take his mind off of everything around him and enjoy the little bit of solitude this place offered him.

He really wasn’t expecting someone to come up to him and ask him for a lighter but there you were. A tiny, pretty thing hidden by a big coat but he could see how your lovely eyes were distant and tired, how your knobby knees were bruised, how you smiled that sly smile of yours as you asked him for a lighter, the short dress you wore teasing him with a view of your legs. One of his favorites between your slim, swollen fingers. 

Tim- because that’s who he had to be now, he remembered- smiled at you. Young, smooth and handsome, deception boiling in his blood, Tim lit the cigarette between your pretty pink lips and watch fire dance across your pale, exhausted face. 

(He realized that maybe Rogers was onto something because at that moment he knew he had to have you.)

* * *

He wasn’t sure how but it soon became a routine. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Every other Wednesday and Sunday, if he wasn't... _busy_ he’d wait for you behind the building with a lighter and your favorite brand of cigarette and you two would chain smoke until there were no cigarettes left or until the cold decided to chase you away.

If he was anyone else, if he were a normal, sane man, he might've said that he looked forward to these little meetings because they were therapeutic. That meeting sweet little (y/n) was a balm to his chaotic life and the splinters that made up his sanity. Hell, they might've even said that they were friends but they were really two animals with the same, savage need. Two sides of the same coin it seemed, just with different faces.

But he wasn't sane. He wasn't a normal man and if he cared and wanted to be normal enough, he would have left you small apartment after they were done, long gone, back to whatever the fuck he needed to do that day and forgotten about you and not watched you sleep the whole night. Tim wouldn't have slowly trailed his calloused hands down your naked, unconscious body heavy with the sedatives he slipped in your drink earlier that night. If he were normal, he wouldn't have been obsessed with the thought of strangling your abused neck just a little tighter when you moaned. If he were normal, he wouldn't long to hear that satisfying _snap_ should you betray him _._ If he were normal he wouldn't be so obsessed with the way you breathed, how your naked chest would move, how love bites rippled along your skin, how those that bothered to look close enough would know that you were fucking **_his._**

But that was the thing, wasn't it? 

Tim (Masky?) wasn't normal, he never was and he would never long to be something he was not.

( _Liar_ , something long forgotten breathed. He ignored it like he always did.)

Regardless of all that, he would keep you around just a little longer; until he grew bored and his hands dug a hole in your chest and ripped out your heart.

* * *

Masky had liked to watch you go about your day. He wasn't sure why but just seeing you installed an addictive, hypersensitive calm that he's never felt before. It was strange he'd slink in and out of shadows, alleyways, rooftops, and trees just to watch you stumble about your day. He found that he hated it when you stopped to talk to anyone. You lived in a bad part of the city and he found it stupid that you went out when you did, if at all. 

Now, he hated it. He hated how you always seemed to around one specific person. It had been about three months now from your last tryst with him. he could remember the hot flash of anger and frustration when you had put an end to your late nights with him. 

"Tim! I'm sorry!" You had yelled out when he turned and walked off after your shit excuse. You were seeing someone else now, you had told him, trying not to hurt him and be as nice as you would, it seemed. What a fucking joke. He never turned around, knowing that if he did, he might wrap his hands around that pretty neck of yours and snap you in two. God, it pissed him off.

(Pissed him off that you'd be so conceited, so fucking _arrogant_ , to think that you could just put him aside and end things; pissed him off that he didn't seem to be enough for you, that you would deceive him as you did that was his job after all; pissed him off that he didn't know what exactly you two were; pissed him off that you didn't seem to understand the lengths he would go to keep you around.

Well, he would fucking show you then.)

From the rooftop across the cafe you and your new lover sat, Masky watched with wrathful eyes and snowballing thoughts of murder and hate.

* * *

Masky felt a thrill shoot through him as he brought down his trusty pipe down on your lovers' bloody back. Your lover screamed and cried at first, put up a bit of fight, but they were no match for him and he took great joy in this. Masky's mask might have been covering his face, but his body language said everything he could not. There was rage and excitement mixed in with bloodlust as he heard the snapping of ribs and other bones. Blood crawled along the dark ground, seeping in between cracks and tree roots and splattered on his tan jacket and boots in a morbid array of color. A sadistic chuckle escaped him.

"You still with me, sunshine?" He mocked the body below him. Power humming in his veins as they whined and whimpered. He cackled in glee and swung hard down hard enough to break several bones on one hand.

They screamed.

From little ways away, Hoodie stood, a silent watcher but Masky ignored him and continued to play with his food until They had lost so much blood that they were already half dead. Hoodie's deep voice stopped him.

" **Are you done**?" 

"Does it look like I'm _fucking_ done, _Brian_." he spat out, chest heaving in both exhilaration and annoyance. 

" **I thought I told you not to call me that, _Timothy_.**" His associate rumbled back, voice dropping just slightly in malic. Tim sneered at him in turn. Hoodie spoke up before he could say anything. 

" **The Master wants us to return soon. Hurry up and kill them already.** " With that, he watched Hoodie stepped into the shadows and walked away, almost vanishing into the trees.

"Fuckin' drama queen, the lot of them." The proxy growled. He twirled the pipe expertly in his hands and tilted his head down to meet the terror and pain-filled eyes of his victim.

"I don't really know what (y/n) saw in you," Masky hummed casually. Your lover's eyes widened at the mention of your name but Masky ignored it and continued on. "You took them from me, you know. So, I'm going to take your life."

Masky swung the pipe down for a final time and watched bone and blood and brain matter explode. He tsked in annoyance, kicking the still twitching, dying body, walking away.

"Fucking useless."

A few hours later, Masky had the pleasure of watching you break down in hysterics from the tree that lead into your apartment window. 

For the first time in months, he grinned. 

* * *

Masky didn't like to admit it but he could be plenty reckless when he wanted to be. He was known at the Ark to be one of the two more... _unstable_ proxies for he was quick to anger, slow to forgive, and could hold grudges for a long time. He couldn't help that he was like this, though, to end up being a slave to an Eldrich abomination but hey, what could you do about it.

Besides, being a murderer wasn't that bad, he had found as he climbed through your bedroom window. His boots made a silent _thud_ as they landed on your carpet. His eyes easily adjusted easily to the darkness, his ears almost twitched at the sound of your strained breathing. Masky crept closer, a moving shadow in your darkroom. He stood still for several minutes, simply watching and waiting. 

He grew bored of this, however, and crept just a little closer, hands reaching into his hoodie packets to the chloroform covered cloth. He struck down with a vengeance. He pressed his whole body down as you struggled, something he both hated and admired. 

You looked at him right in the eyes at some point, a glare full of panic and that fire he would see when you would sass him. Masky watched as your struggling lessened and weakened, eyes rolling back and body going limp. 

He wasn't stupid though, he waited just a little more to make sure you were sound asleep and not faking it. He had gone through a lot of trouble to sneak out and would need his strength to bring you back to your new home after all. 

Masky pulled away and caressed the side of your face, a chuckle that turned into full hysterical laughter, heart pumping in his chest.

He knew that you would hate him for this, but that was fine. Masky would make sure you'd stay with him, _love_ him, _worship_ him...even if he had to break all the bones in your body, devour your mind, and soil your soul to do so.

**Author's Note:**

> Lies, tell me lies


End file.
